


Bonds Never Break

by caliburn



Series: Little Black Dress Fics [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sentinels & Guides, Alternate Universe - Sentinels and Guides Are Known, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-29 15:15:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18780856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caliburn/pseuds/caliburn
Summary: The back story of Steve and Bucky, where they came from and how they came through the war.





	Bonds Never Break

 

Steven Grant Rogers had known for most of his life that he was a Guide; the smallest, weakest Guide in Brooklyn, perhaps in New York, but a Guide nonetheless. He was empathetic, even understanding up to a point, but then his Irish temper would flare and small fists would fly. It was during one such incident on the playground that he found himself back to back with a larger boy who was new to the school, both of them against the large group of older bullies who would not leave Alan, a boy in leg braces after polio, alone. After the dust had settled, and sitting outside Mother Superior’s office the new boy offered a hand.

 

“James Buchanan Barnes, my Ma calls me Bucky.”

“Steven Grant Rogers. My Ma calls me trouble.”

 

When Mother Maria David came out it was to a soon to be familiar sight of the two of them, tow headed and dark haired leaning together in helpless giggles.

 

@-;---

 

 

Sarah Rogers soon came to know Lucia Barnes as their sons were thick as thieves within three minutes of meeting. The Barnes household was two blocks over from the Rogers home, a rambling Italian/Romanian mess of parents, children and dogs that usually smelt of tomatoes and garlic. The overworked officers on Ellis Island may have written Barnes but Carol Baraun had been a toddler who took to his new name and eventually married out of the country to Lucia Affini who had been the prettiest girl in the school and was still a stunning woman after four children; James, Rebecca, Rachel and Elizabeth. The Irish duo were simply absorbed into the mix.

 

 

Sarah had worked a late shift and was headed to collect her son when she was met at the door one night by Lucia, who had a wide grin on her face.

 

“Come, come and see…”

 

Steve had as usual curled up with Bucky but in front of him was a little bundle of grey and white fluff.

 

“A new pet? I can’t take it home, no matter if he found it and brought it home.”

“Shhh, let them sleep…. I will explain.”

 

It was over a cup of much needed tea that Lucia explained the events of the evening.

 

Little Rachel had managed to climb up next to her mother while she was cooking and burned her hand, Steve however had responded by bursting into tears as a puppy had materialised in his lap. The chaos resulting had distracted Rachel from her pain as Bucky held a howling best friend and their faces were licked to death by Steve’s new accessory.

 

“So, my little Steven is a Guide.”

“It would appear so mi amo.”

“Well, it explains a few things…. Like his utter inability to stay out of mischief.”

“I never thought that James would be a steadying influence!”

“At least he tries to use words first; Steve just lets his fists fly.”

“Are you sure he is a Guide, not a Sentinel?”

“My family have always run to Guides, his father’s too, and he is far too little to be a Sentinel.”

“He’ll grow.”

“Not that much…. Anyway, he’s always had a touch of the sight and that’s a Guide trait.”

“Has he?”

“Morning he met Bucky he told me his life was going to change.”

 

That shocked Lucia silent for a few moments, not an easy thing to do to the garrulous Italian.

 

“Do you think that my James….”

“Who knows… time will tell.”

 

 

@-;---

 

 

Steve was initially reluctant to visit the New York Sentinel/Guide Centre, convinced that either he’d be taken away from his mother and the Barnes’ or a Sentinel would swoop in and claim him against his will. It was only after he had three days of prophetic dreams about fire and falling that he gave in and visited the imposing building in Manhattan.

 

There it was confirmed that he was a young but online Guide, their amazement at his fully interactive and playful puppy clear to see. Little Lorcán had been named by Sarah after the nickname she had given her premature child, little fierce one indeed. The puppy would play pounce with fingers and toes, at times real enough to leave stinging pain behind from sharp little teeth. The fluffy bundle was declared a Siberian Husky, surprising everyone except Sarah, who knew her child’s favourite book was Whitefang and in any case expected no different from her contrary son.

 

Life settled back into its quiet routine of school, work and yard fights until that winter when Steve became very ill indeed, contracting Scarlet Fever and then Rheumatic Fever when weakened by his recovery. It was during the night of his first major crisis that it happened, Sarah had called Father O’Harlan to come and see him, concerned that her son was about to go and meet his maker when the door burst open and a bare foot Bucky sprang in, clad in his pyjamas and chanting Steve’s name as though he knew no other words. A small wolf pup was scampering at his heels and Lorcán appeared for the first time in days to bump noses with the new comer. The wolf took the weakened puppy by the scruff of the neck and dragged him over to the bed where Steve was struggling for breath and Bucky followed, climbing up determinedly onto the mattress and addressing the unconscious lad with authority.

 

“Not allowed to die.”

 

With that he curled up next to his friend and to all intents and purposes went back to sleep. Lucia appeared with the Father and they watched as Steve’s breathing eased and became more regular, matching his best friends in frequency if not in depth.

 

“Well, I think I’ll not be needed for extreme unction this evening!” was the Father’s dry response, laying a hand on both foreheads in blessing before smiling broadly at the damp eyed mothers.

 

“No, you won’t Father, bless you.”

“And you both. Bring the boys over to the church when Steven is feeling better and we’ll have a talk about the gift they have received.”

“Thank you Father.”

 

He saw himself out, aware that the women needed time to come to terms with their new world.

 

 

@-;---

 

 

Apart from both being online nothing really changed for Steve and Bucky as the years went by. James grew tall and strong and despite his Sentinel status seemed to spend most of his time pulling the much smaller Steven out of things; arguments, fights and dumpsters most often. It was rare to see one without the other, Father O’Hanlan’s replacement had called them David and Jonathan and it had stuck, the whole neighbourhood assuming that Steve was sick again if Bucky appeared without the shorter lad at his side.

 

However, the end of school changed things. A Sentinel’s strong back was always welcome in the Dockyard and Bucky was quickly accepted there but there was no place for Steve, instead he managed to scrape together enough to start at Art School and made a little money doing odd jobs around the area whenever he could. He was a popular babysitter regardless of his health; no one was trusted more than a Guide, even such a sick one. When he was well he sold papers and ran errands: when his heart was pounding and his breath uncatchable, even with his cigarettes, he drew advertisements and commissions for cash. Still, every day he could he met Bucky at the gates at the end of his working day to let him ground his senses and balance himself on the strength of his friend. When he wasn’t there Bucky simply went to the Roger’s home first for the same thing, needing the presence of the Guide to settle his day.

 

They were an acknowledged pair, even without the formality of a bonding ceremony at the Sentinel/Guide centre. It was the opinion of the Centre that Steve was not strong enough to take the bonding, so with regret they had to advise against it, they had a platonic bond but could not merge their spirits as they so desperately desired. Lorcán and Cezar appeared with both men, their bond did not need a ritual; dog and wolf simply ran together as pack.

 

Bucky was a popular date in the area, he would take you dancing without pushing for anything more; although if it were offered was another matter entirely. Steven did alright as well, although his dates tended to want to go to the pictures or sit quietly with the personable but less favoured Guide. In any case, any girl who thought she might get further with either of the men was quickly informed of their status together, and it would be a brave lass who would get between a Sentinel and their Guide, bonded or not. It was the centre’s hope that the duo would settle down with a female/female pair, a common solution to societal expectations about weddings and children. However, their status did not prevent some unkind comments. Not everyone believed that Steve was a Guide at all, never mind the true partner of a future Beta leader – as Bucky was slowly becoming. His natural authority shone out, getting him promotion in the dockyard and respect from the gangs, who naturally stayed away from any area with a Sentinel. That he hung around with a little punk was somewhat frowned upon, until they realised that the ‘fairy’ would be the first with his fists up and that his furious Sentinel would be following close behind.

 

 

@-;---

 

 

Life continued on for them, Steven getting sick with worrying regularity and Bucky pulling him out of fights, sick or well. Then Sarah started coughing.

 

For the last few years she had worked in the tuberculosis wards, taking the extra money for the risk to support them, paying for Steve’s medication was not cheap – even with Bucky chipping in from his wages. However, her luck could not last forever and she was caught. Even being admitted to her own ward did not help and eventually she left and came home, determined to die surrounded by friends and family rather than in the cold white sterile atmosphere of the hospital.

 

Steven was devastated. He had never known his father, dead from mustard gas before his premature son was born, but Sarah had been his whole world apart from James. He withdrew into himself, meeting Bucky just enough to keep his balance, not wanting to press his pain onto his Sentinel, who was desperate to hold it for him.

 

Finally the mass came, Father Guido leading the service and the full house following him. Steve stood alone, rejecting the support he was offered, a dejected slump to his shoulders. Eventually Bucky went looking for him and found him back home, staring at his own front door, Lorcán a disconsolate pile of fluff at his side.

 

“We looked for you after. My folks wanted to give you a ride to the cemetery”

“I know… I'm sorry. I just...kind of wanted to be alone.”

“How was it?”

“It was okay. She's next to Dad.”

 

Bucky put his hands in his pockets and kicked his foot childishly before looking back at his Guide.

 

“I was gonna ask...”

“I know what you're gonna say, Buck, I just...”

“We can put the couch cushions on the floor like when we were kids. It'll be fun. All you gotta do is shine my shoes, maybe take out the trash.”

 

Hiding how deeply he wanted Steve to come home with him, he kicked over the brick that had hidden the key since he first came to the apartment and handed it into a pale hand that Cezar then licked in sympathy.

 

“Come on.”

“Thank you, Buck, but I can get by on my own”

 

He sighed, sometimes, Guide or not, Steve just did not GET it.

 

“The thing is, you don't have to.”

 

Giving in he reached out and touched his Guide softly on the shoulder.

 

“I'm with you to the end of the line, pal.”

 

 

@-;---

 

 

The declaration of war in Europe had sent a frisson of worry through the Sentinel/Guide Centres, quietly speaking to those pairs who served and warning others that they would probably be called upon in the near future. However, it was when they were getting ready for Mass and Steve turned on the wireless that everything changed.

 

“The USA has been attacked. Japanese fighters this morning launched a cowardly and devastating attack on Pearl Harbour…”

 

Having moved in to help with the rent Bucky came out of his room in silence, pulling up his tie and straightening the knot as he looked at his Guide.

 

“Damn.”

“We’d best get to the Centre and sign up.”

“Yeah.”

 

 

@-;---

 

 

A letter addressed to Sentinel James Buchanan Barnes arrived on the doorstep in early 1942; an ominous brown oblong that both men knew was going to change their lives. Inside were orders for Bucky to attend his training at Camp McCoy in Wisconsin. Steve was incensed.

 

“I’m your Guide, they can’t take you without me.”

 

Bucky pulled the smaller man in and held him, soaking in the scent and feel of him as much as he could, as though their separation was in minutes rather than days.

 

“Not officially Stevie. You ain’t strong enough so… guess I’ll need to go it alone.”

“No. I’ll go and make sure I can come with you.”

“You had your physical at the Centre, same as I did pal. You were a 4F… what’s changed?”

“You’re going. I am going.”

 

Steve pushed the Sentinel away from him and stared up into silver blue eyes.

 

“I can be a Guide… your Guide and I am coming with you.”

 

That declaration was apparently that, and no amount of talking was going to change this particular mind.

 

 

@-;---

 

 

Despite being homesick; and missing Steve like a missing limb, Bucky thrived in the army. An unattached Sentinel was so rare an acquisition that he was watched carefully to make sure he was stable before his talents were exploited. It was simply automatic to put a sniper rifle in his hand, that he hit the bullseye with his second hit meant he was pulled for special training as soon as he finished basic. Winter training followed, cold being almost worse than the enemy for breaking morale and good order so it wasn’t until four months had passed that he received his first leave and was able to jump on a train back to his soul.

 

Arriving in the apartment he wrapped himself around Steve, soaking in his scent pile and feel. Even his tricky heartbeat felt like home. Lorcán and Cezar were leaping around each other in joy, the strong wolf nosing at the weaker Husky. Steve’s animal seemed a little young for his age but the Centre had told them that the comparative weakness of the human led to the weakness of the spirit. Bucky had never believed that, if spiritual strength and resolve were the determiner then his Guide was a lion rather than a slightly bedraggled sled dog.

 

Bucky had a glorious furlough, spending time with Steve and his family, even enjoying attending mass. He went back to his advanced training with a pile of books and one of Steve’s undershirts, ready for the next stage of his army career.

 

 

@-;---

 

 

Although he was a dab hand with a rifle, Bucky also proved that spending more than 15 years hauling his Guide around made him an empathetic and efficient instructor and it was in this role that he spent the next few months. Promoted to Sergeant Sentinel he taught the gifted and mundane alike to become one with their weapon, showing a natural adeptness that meant his commanders regretted the lack of the presidential 100 competition that had been abandoned in the 30’s. Sentinels had always been permitted to compete in the competition; eyesight was only a part of the qualifications needed to be a sniper. However, he knew that at any moment things could change and Sergeant Barnes could end up on one of a number of front lines.

 

Meanwhile Steve kept himself busy with art classes, work where he could and drawing Tijuana bibles for the troops when he couldn’t. In between assignments he took himself off around the state, each time frustrated by the 4F that would be stamped against his name again and again. It wasn’t until the day before he thought Bucky was due back that he tried again, this time travelling to the forbidden state of Jersey and pretending to be from Paramus.

 

“Rogers, Steven.”

 

He ignored the doomsayer next to him and shuffled his skinny little frame up to the doctor, standing as tall and broad as he could.

 

“Guide Rogers. What did your father die of?”

“Mustard gas. He was in the hundred and seventh infantry. I was hoping I could be assigned…”

“Your mother?”

“She was a nurse in a TB ward. Got hit, couldn’t shake it.”

 

The doctor looked at the file in front of him, eyed widening as he took in the long list of conditions that the man had. Asthma, survivor of Scarlet Fever and Rheumatic Fever, sinusitis, chronic and frequent colds, high blood pressure, palpitation and pounding heart, easily fatigued, heart and nervous trouble quite apart from the contact with TB and diabetes that were also on the form. The 94 pound figure who just hit 5’4”, despite the depth of his voice, was staring at him in hope but the doctor could not bring himself to think the unthinkable.

 

“Sorry, son.”

“Look, just give me a chance.”

“You’d be ineligible on your asthma alone, never mind everything else.”

“Is there anything you can do? I need to be there.”

“I’m doing it. I’m saving your life.”

 

 

@-;---

 

 

Heading back to Brooklyn Steve decided to take in a movie, hoping for news and a good animation to lift his crushed spirits. However, the loud mouth oik a few rows in front spoiled that idea and soon enough he found himself in a back alley again, but this time without the backup he so richly needed.

 

Bucky got to the apartment and dumped his duffle before straightening his uniform and heading out to find Steve. He had gone home first to share the news with his family and receive the hugs and kisses he was due before heading out to find his Guide. His mother had set them up with a pair of friends for the night and he had splashed out on tickets to the greatest thing available, the World Exposition of Tomorrow 1943.

 

Finding his Guide was never really a problem, all he had to do was sniff the air and then listen for his particular heartbeat, following it this time (as so often before) to a back alley full of garbage.

 

“I can do this all day.”

 

Yes, definitely his Guide. There he was, all 5’4 of him in a righteous fury, fists up and blood trickling from his mouth.

 

“Hey! Pick on someone your own size.”

 

Bucky spun him round and smacked him firmly with a right uppercut before kicking him in the ass as he went back out the alley. Then he headed back to Steve, holding out a hand to him to haul him up and into an embrace.

 

“Sometimes, I think you like getting punched.”

“I had him on the ropes.”

 

A piece of paper caught his eye and he leaned over to pick it up, huffing in exasperation as he read it.

 

“How many times is this? Oh, you’re from Paramus now? You know it’s illegal to lie on the enlistment form. And seriously, Jersey?”

 

Steve huffed a little himself but got his breath back and stared at his formally dressed best friend, taking in the deep chocolate and the stripes before looking him in the eyes again.

 

“You get your orders?”

“The one-o-seventh. Sergeant James Barnes. Shipping out for England first thing tomorrow.”

“I should be going.”

 

He sounded so low that Bucky simply swept him into his arms again.

 

“Come on, man. My last night! Gotta get you cleaned up.”

“Why, where we going?”

“The future! Well, after a rest we are.”

 

 

@-;---

 

 

Back in their apartment Bucky pulled off his tunic and shirt then hustled with a well used first aid box, doctoring Steve’s hands and face as well as glaring at his ribs.

 

“They’re intact, luckily for you.”

“Wha?”

“Else I’d be dragging you to Hospital rather than on a date.”

“Really….”

 

Steve had an ability to drag a word out into a whine that still astonished Bucky, even though he’d tried it in front of Mother David all those years ago when they first met.

 

“Yes. Look, Ma set it up… Connie and Bonnie.”

“They rhyme?”

“They’re a pair, but like us, y’know, not bonded properly. You’ll like them, you’ve probably met Bonnie in class at the Centre.”

“So, they know about us.”

“Sure. We’re not the only pair that aren’t supposed to bond.”

“One of them weak as water as well?”

“Hush that Steven… no, that is... Just know Connie from classes I’ve been to. She’s Rebecca’s age and a lot of fun… likes to dance.”

“Oh.”

 

Bucky sat up and pulled the smaller man into his lap, making him sit sideways across him so they could both rest in the corner of their battered couch.

 

“No 'Oh'. I like Connie. She’s been a good laugh in class over the years and a good dancing partner because Bonnie…”

“Bonnie?”

“Bonnie, she had polio when she was little and her ankle can’t take the throwing about that Connie likes to do.”

“So a weak Guide and normal Sentinel... sounds familiar”

“Not normal… yours.”

 

Steve gave in and rested his head against Bucky’s strong shoulder, letting the taller man hold him and soak in his presence.

 

“How am I going to manage Europe pal. I only managed Wisconsin and the rest because I had your shirt.”

“That’s why I need to come.”

“No, that’s why you need to stay safe and send me parcels with Ma.”

“I’m not your wife.”

 

Struggling out of the embrace Steve stood up and squared up, fists on his hips as he glared.

 

“I’m no-one’s little stay at home, I won’t be that… I can’t.”

“No-one’s asking you to.”

“Your Ma is. Your Da too.”

“Da wants me to stay in the Docks… he saw too much in the trenches and he ain’t happy about my going at all. If they can keep one of us close they’ll be happier.”

 

Standing, Bucky stripped off his trousers and straightened up before holding out a hand.

 

“C’mon. I need to sleep before our great futuristic adventure.”

 

Steve pulled off his pants as well and took the offered palm, following the Sentinel into his bedroom and settling down. Two forms jumped up onto the end of the bed and curled around them and in a puppy pile, they slept.

 

 

@-;---

 

 

“I don’t see what the problem is. You’re about to be the last eligible man in New York. You know, there’s three and a half million women here.”

“I'd settle for just one....”

“Good thing Ma took care of that.”

 

Bucky could see the girls ahead and waved to them, catching the Sentinel’s eye and prompting her to wave back.

 

“Hey, Bucky!”

 

His enhanced hearing picked up her call and he smiled, pleased to have a night of fun before he left.

 

“What did you tell her about me?”

 

He turned to Steve and threw an arm over his shoulders, dragging him close enough to drop a kiss on the side of his head.

 

“Only the good stuff.”

 

 

The World Exposition of Tomorrow was on a vast site, full of companies and individuals with their inventions and ideas. It was Bucky's idea of heaven, he'd wanted to be an engineer but there was no money for it, even for a Sentinel. They wandered the site, making their way slowly to the central attraction, The Modern Marvels Pavilion and the World of Tomorrow. They arrived just in time for one of the headline events, Howard Stark and his latest invention.

 

Stark was someone they had heard of, famous – or perhaps infamous – for his genius as well as his behaviour. Bucky absorbed every article he could find about the man just as his mother and sisters took in the gossip about his lifestyle and antics with Hollywood beauties.

 

“Oh, my God! It’s starting!”

 

Connie was as excited as Bucky, two engineering nerds who could not pursue their dreams. Bonnie was not as excited, shaking her head at her Sentinel in bemusement and rolling her eyes at Steve who was smiling at his partner. Stark was pontificating about his cherry red car and the artist was busily taking in his dancers for inspiration when all of a sudden the vehicle began to take the air.

 

“Holy cow.”

 

Bucky was dazzled, taking in the sight with wide eyes. Then it fell, his face matching it. Steve drank in the sight before turning away, hoping that he could manage to sneak away from his blessed protector, knowing that his senses were turned down because of the overwhelming public masses at the festival.

 

“Hey, Steve, what do you say we treat these girls… damn it.”

 

It didn't take Bucky long to track down his missing guide, he simply followed the heart beat until he saw a recruitment centre and sighed.

 

“Come on. You’re kind of missing the point of a double date. We’re taking the girls dancing.”

“You go ahead. I’ll catch up with you.”

“You’re really gonna do this again? Now?”

“Well, it’s a fair. I’m gonna try my luck.”

“As who? Steve from Ohio? They’ll catch you. Or worse, they’ll actually take you.”

 

That put his back up and Steve pulled himself up to his full height.

 

“Look, I know you don’t think I can do this.”

“This isn’t a back alley, Steve. It’s war!”

“I know it’s a war. You don’t have to tell me.” 

“Why are you so keen to fight? There are so many important jobs...” 

“What am I gonna do? Collect scrap metal…”

“Yes!”

“…in my little red wagon.”

“Why not? The Centre...”

“I’m not gonna sit in a factory, Bucky.”

“I don’t…”

“Bucky, come on! There are men laying down their lives. I got no right to do any less than them. That’s what you don’t understand. This isn’t about me.” 

“Right. Cause you got nothing to prove...”

 

Behind them the girls were waiting and Connie called out to them.

 

“Hey, Sarge! Are we going dancing?”

 

Bucky sighed and turned slightly to them, annoyed a little at the interruption but knowing that he needed the break to burn off his energy before the long trip he was facing.

 

“Yes we are!”

 

He turned back to Steve and reached out for him, gripping him tightly.

 

“Don’t do anything stupid until I get back.”

“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.”

“You're a punk.”

“Jerk, be careful.”

 

Bucky turned and was halfway away when Steve realised he had to get the last word.

 

“Don’t win the war till I get there!”

 

With a salute, he was gone.

 

 

@-;---

 

 

Unlike his partner, Steve did not take to the military like a duck to water. Everything was a struggle, from PT and weapons training to the food but he persevered. His Guide status was not mentioned, apart from Doctor Erskine who checked in on him regularly, and he was simply another recruit for the SSR. Lorcán only came out when Steve was alone, although he swore that he felt him on top of the bedclothes at night. It was the presence of the dog, and the over-riding hope that he’d finally get to be with Bucky, that kept him going. Agent Carter helped, her steady and steadfast support a balm to his internal wounds. She was beautiful, with an ordered and steady mind, but she was mundane and could not sooth him in the same way as another Guide or his Bucky could.

 

Around half way through the training he was on a long route march when the training sergeant stopped them at a flagpole. As they all tried to catch their breath he was standing, eying the recruits and dismissing them all.

 

“That flag means we’re only at the halfway point. First man to bring it to me gets a ride back with Agent Carter. Move, move!”

 

The soldiers scrambled at the pole and at each other, desperately trying to reach the cloth and get out of the rest of Sergeant Duffy's run.

 

“Nobody’s got that flag in 17 years! Now fall back into line! Come on, fall in! Let’s go! Get back into formation! Rogers! I said fall in!”

 

Steve had waited for the others to finish their efforts before pulling at the pin he had spotted at the base and waiting for the pole to fall to the ground. He unclipped the flag and handed it to a gaping sergeant before climbing into the jeep and smiling at the grinning Agent.

 

It took another two weeks to finish their basic training; days of drill, shooting practice, map reading and conditioning. Steve struggled on, every day feeling like a climb up Mount Everest without the aid of oxygen. Whilst the other recruits built muscle and got stronger he seemed to stay the same, only his bloody minded determination getting him on his feet each morning at reveille.

 

At the last they were doing PT under the watchful eye of Agent Carter when Dr Erskine came to speak to the Colonel. As Steve tried to keep up with the press-ups demanded of them he heard.

 

“Grenade.”

 

He threw himself onto it. As determined to save the tribe as any Sentinel would be.

 

“Get away! Get back!”

 

The other recruits were still running and hiding as he waved them away, curled up over the steel form and apologising mentally to Bucky.

 

“It was a dummy grenade. All clear. Back in formation.”

 

Steve uncurled and sat up, the adrenaline he had dumped into his system making him shiver and shake.

 

“Is this is a test?”

 

Hodges was the first to reach him, his bully of the last six weeks holding out a hand and pulling him to his feet.

 

“Are you fucking crazy Rogers?”

“Can't help it.... got to protect everyone.”

“You're a Guide?!”

“Yeah.”

“Shit.... I would never have...”

“S'okay.”

 

Agent Carter came over then and ordered Steve to the medical tent before Sergeant Duffy collected the rest of the squad for more training.

 

That evening he sat in the now empty barracks and read one of the books that Bucky had sent back to him from his own training camp. The rest of the troop had been given orders and packed up, leaving before the day was done. Their postings would come through quickly, soldiers were needed on the front lines, east and west taking men and machinery as fast as they could be trained and produced. He looked up as the door opened and the German scientist joined him.

 

“May I?” 

“Yeah.”

“Can’t sleep?”

“I got the jitters, I guess.”

 

That made him laugh and smile wryly.

 

“Me, too.”

 

Steve looked down, then resolutely looked him in the eye.

 

“Can I ask you a question?” 

“Just one?”

 

He sat on Davey’s abandoned bunk and looked at his choice.

 

“Why me?” 

“I suppose that is the only question that matters.”

 

He looked at the bottle he had brought with him and sighed deeply.

 

“This is from Augsburg. My city. So many people forget that the first country that the Nazi’s invaded was their own. You know, after the last war the…my people struggled. They…they felt weak. They felt small. And then Hitler comes along with the marching and the big show and the flags and the…and the… And he…he hears of me, my work and he finds me. And he says ‘You.’ He says ‘You will make us strong.’ Well, I am not interested. So he sends the head of Hydra, his research division. A brilliant scientist by the name of Johann Schmidt. Now, Schmidt is a member of the inner circle and he’s ambitious. He and Hitler share a passion for occult power and Teutonic myth. Hitler uses his fantasies to inspire his followers. But for Schmidt it is not fantasy. For him, it is real. He has become convinced that there is a great power hidden in the earth, left here by the Gods, waiting to be seized by a superior man. So when he hears about my formula and what it can do, he cannot resist. Schmidt must become that superior man. 

“Did it make him stronger?” 

“Yeah. But, there were other effects. The serum was not ready. But more important, the man. The serum amplifies everything that is inside. So, good becomes great. Bad becomes worse. This is why you were chosen. Because a strong man, who has known power all his life, will lose respect for that power. But a weak man knows the value of strength, and knows compassion. Also, a Guide is harder to corrupt than a normal man, even more so than a Sentinel.”

“Thanks. I think.”

 

Erskine, poured out two good sized glasses of the schnapps and handed one over.

 

“Whatever happens tomorrow, you must promise me one thing. That you will stay who you are. Not a perfect soldier, but a good man.”

“To the little guys.”

“No! No! Wait! Wait! What I am doing? No! You have a procedure tomorrow. No fluids.”

 

He retrieved Steve’s glass and added the contents to his own.

 

“All right. We’ll drink it after.”

“No! I don’t have procedure tomorrow. Drink it after? Drink it now!”

 

 

@-;---

 

 

Then came Rebirth.

 

The events of the day weighed on Steve, from his nerves as he and Agent Carter drove through Brooklyn to the overwhelming pain of the procedure itself.

 

Going through the streets of Brooklyn in the car had been heart wrenching, simply making him miss Bucky even more. He pointed out alleys, parking lots and backstreets that he had been hauled out of to pass the time and ease his aching heart. It was easy to talk to the beautiful Agent, she also felt Guide-like in her way of putting him at ease. They pulled up at an Antiques store and climbed out, Steve looking up at the sky in nervous anticipation before following Carter.

 

He had thought the penicillin, whatever that was, hurt enough. The serum being injected was agonising. Then Stark had started to add his 'vitarays' and the pain increased. He had called out that he was alright when Erskine had asked, ignoring Agent Carter when her voice rose demanding that the procedure be abandoned. Every fibre of his being was stretched, pulled, twisted and knotted. Bones creaked and grew, his heart pounded more than when he was running and he felt sweat gather along his spine as it had when he had come so close to death from fever. But this was a new malaise, spiking from pain and the almost overpowering sensations running through him. Then, it stopped.

 

After they were finished he had fallen into Stark and Erskine's arms out of the pod. All words had fallen away, all he could gasp was 'taller' when he was asked how he felt. Everything was out of control, his empathy spilling into the room and out of his control. Agent Carter touching him helped him settle, bringing his gifts back into his chest and under control. The events that followed were ridiculous now he thought about it. Racing bare foot through the streets he had known all his life after a Nazi assassin, only to lose him in a suicidal gesture of loyalty to his cause. The SSR had followed him, hauling the mini-submarine out of the water for Stark to examine whilst he was sat down for the medical examination that he so desperately needed.

 

“Think you got enough?”

 

Vial after vial of his blood had been drawn and labelled, he was the only source of the serum now that Erskine was gone and his vision with him. Agent Carter was with him, keeping a weather eye for the Colonel as he and Senator Brandt argued in the corridor outside.

 

“You need to sleep. We'll be back here tomorrow to hear about that device Kruger was piloting and what happens now.”

“Where will I go?”

“There's a bunk house here, we'll all stay.”

 

A room to himself was welcomed, and he sank into meditation more easily than he ever had before, without an arrhythmia to distract him it was much simpler to listen to his own heart beat and settle himself. All the lessons he had absorbed over the years at the centre suddenly made proper sense, made themselves at home within him as they never had before. Lorcán appeared and settled next to him, turning round and round before settling next to him with his tail over his nose.

 

“Good girl.”

 

 

@-;---

 

 

The next morning found Steve and the rest of the SSR watching as Stark examined the machine that had been dredged out of the river and brought to the secret bunker for him. The Colonel arrived and made his pronouncement.

 

“Spoke to the president this morning. As of today the SSR is being retasked.”

“Sir?”

“We are taking the fight to Hydra. Pack your bags Agent Carter, you too, Stark. You’re flying to London tonight.”

 

Steve pushed his way carefully to the front, still unsure of his strength despite a day of testing and calibrating.

 

“ Sir, if you’re going after Schmidt, I want in.”

“You're an experiment. You're going to Alamogordo.”

“The serum worked.”

“I asked for an army and I got you, you are not enough.”

“Then permission to join my Sentinel sir.”

“I told you... Alamogordo.”

“Please…”

“I understand son, I do… but Alamogordo.”

 

He walked away, followed by Agent Carter debating the sense in leaving Steve behind, and Senator Brandt came up to him.

 

“Let's talk....”

 

 

@-;---

 

 

Tights. He was wearing tights. Itchy, scratchy, woollen tights and the shortest pants he’d had since he was out of diapers. After a couple of weeks he knew his lines and could even deliver them without looking at a crib sheet on his shield or a prompter from the wings. He knew the routine as well; when to talk, when to show off his strength and when to punch the Fuhrer in the face. The girls were delighted to have him with them. He was tall, handsome, and as a Guide, safe for them to be around. Their emotions were generally positive, they preferred being on tour with the USO to factory work and for most of them it was their first time away from parents and observation. Officially he roomed with Harry, who he punched out every show, but he was more usually found in a puppy pile with the two Guide-sensitive dancers, and anyone in need of a hug, all of them supporting each other away from their home Centres.

 

After travelling across the country the dancers found themselves with some spare time as Steve was whisked into a studio to film ‘Captain America Saves the Day’. He felt ridiculous, and could not stop looking at the camera whenever they shouted instructions and directions to him and his 'platoon'. Eventually the movie was in the can and the shows continued, taking them across the southern states and into Florida.

 

“Each one you buy is a bullet in the barrel of your best guy’s gun.”

 

Every performance the same, each day becoming routine. There were comic books, magazines and cigarette cards, more and more things with his picture for him to sign when kids swarmed him after every show. He made more movies, took more pictures and signed until his hand cramped – every day hoping that Senator Brandt would send him real orders. He felt the emotions of the crowds and learned to manipulate his shields more and more, letting in the positive and keeping out the negative with ease.

 

 

@-;---

 

 

Finally he got his orders for Europe, but not to fight but to take the show to the front. All the troupe knew this was a bad idea, but the Senator was determined to have Captain America goes to Italy as headline news. Keeping ahead of the news cycle was a major concern and he had been to most big cities, having him back after being in Europe would bring people back into the theatres and keep money pouring into the bonds he was hawking.

 

“How many of you ready to help me sock old Adolf on the jaw?”

 

A silence almost absolute, worn out soldiers staring at him blankly, ire and anger rising the longer he stood on the rickety make shift stage.

 

“Okay. Uh… I need a volunteer.”

“I already volunteered! How do you think I got here?”

 

Steve escaped as the girls came back on to whistles and cheers. He had absorbed the emotions from the men and needed space to let them out, rebalance himself and find his centre. A little sketchbook helped, his quick scratches a memory bank of things he had seen and people he had met. He had started drawing himself as a performing monkey when he felt a familiar presence coming and looked up.

 

“Hello Steve.”

“Hi.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Officially I’m not here at all. That was quite a performance.”

“Yeah. Uh…I had to improvise a little bit. Crowds I’m used to are usually more uh… twelve.”

“I understand you’re "America’s New Hope?”

“Bond sales take a ten percent bump in every state I visit.”

“Is that Senator Brandt I hear?”

“At least he’s got me doin’ this. Phillips would have had be stuck in lab.”

“And these are your only two options? A lab rat or a dancing monkey? You were meant for more than this, you know?”

 

He could feel her sincerity, her belief in him that had held on despite the months that had passed.

 

“You know for the longest time I dreamed about coming overseas and being on the front lines. Serving my country. I finally get everything I wanted, and I’m wearing tights.”

 

Honking broke through his mood and he looked up as an ambulance screeched to a halt in front of a medical tent.

 

“They look like they’ve been through hell.”

“These men more than most. Schmidt sent out a force to Azzano. Two hundred men went up against him and less than fifty returned. Your audience contained what was left of the one-oh-seventh. The rest were killed or captured.”

“The 107th?”

“What?!”

 

He dropped his book and hauled on a jacket before running into the rain and over to the senior officer's base tent.

 

“Well, if it isn’t the Star-Spangled Man With A Plan. And what is your plan today?”

“I need the casualty list from Azzano.”

“You don’t get to give me orders, son.”

“I just need one name. Sergeant James Barnes from the hundred and seventh.”

 

The Colonel pointed at Agent Carter with a stare that promised retribution, she glared back, untouchable in her self righteousness.

 

“Please sir.... Barnes, he.... he is my Sentinel. The reason I wanted to come to the front... please.”

“I have signed more of these condolence letters today than I would care to count. But the name does sound familiar. I’m sorry.”

 

Steve sank into a chair, heart breaking as he realised he would never be able to bond, that there would be no comfortable future for the two of them, that Lorcán and Cezar would never pile together on their bed again. The Husky appeared and howled, the grief that the Guide was feeling writ large and loud.

 

“Your Sentinel?”

“Yes. We.... I wasn't allowed to bond before, too weak to get through it... I hoped that after all this... well, yeah.”

“I'm sorry Rogers. Truly.”

 

The genuine feeling from the officer surprised him, but then he wrote letters, generally grieving spouses and family members were a lot further away.

 

“What about the others? Are you planning a rescue mission?”

“Yeah! It’s called winning the war.”

 

Steve looked closely at the maps and charts around the Colonel and realised that his moments of good will were up so he stood.

 

“With your permission Colonel.”

 

He was waved away, striding out into the mud and rain towards the show's barracks, Agent Carter following

 

“What do you plan to do? Walk to Austria?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

 

He pulled on pants over his costume and a leather jacket that he wore occasionally in the show, before stealing a helmet from the dancer's cubbyholes.

 

“You told me you thought I was meant for more than this. Did you mean that?”

“Yes.”

“Then you have to let me go.”

 

He threw a bag into a jeep and swung himself in after it, but he paused when she put her hand on the door.

 

“I have an idea.”

 

 

@-;---

 

 

The flight with Stark and Carter had been something else, the Agent a mixture of information and confusion. The inventor was a strange mixture of mechanics, lust and adrenaline to Steve’s mind; a curious combination. He had read him a little back in Brooklyn and the mechanics and lust seemed to be his permanent state, the adrenaline from flying almost the same as the adrenaline from the high of Rebirth. Agent Carter was worried, about him, about the men and the mission, about herself for letting him go alone. It was this worry that made him take the transponder, uncertain of whether he was going to rescue the men or lose himself in the battle to join Bucky wherever he was. He knew full well that this was a suicide mission, one man – even an enhanced one – against at least a division of Nazi and Hydra fanatics. When the flack had got too high he jumped, uncertain of where he was but not prepared to let others die for his stupid idea. It was one thing to risk himself; another thing entirely to risk the civilian and the attractive SSR Agent.

 

It was worryingly easy to sort out where he was and run the seven miles to the road that had been cut through the forest to the large base beyond. It was the work of moments to haul himself into the rearmost truck of a convoy and only took seconds more to disable the two troops who were inside. Their uniforms were unusual; none of his preparation or research had prepared him for men in all over black with face covering masks… all in black and not the SS.

 

Once through the gates he jumped out the back of the vehicle and headed into the main buildings, pocketing things that looked useful or unusual on the way. The iridescent blue gun cartridges were one example, a few abandoned grenades another. He reached out as best as he could, pushing the industriousness of the Hydra operatives away and looking for the anger and frustration that would indicate prisoners.

 

He found it. Following the path his mind had drawn for him he set off, sneaking as best he could to reach the cages where the allied troops had been confined. He thumped one of the guards onto the lid of the enclosure and smiled as the men inside scrambled to their feet, clearly still up for a fight. It was an African-American soldier who dared to be the first to speak.

 

“Who are you supposed to be?” 

“I’m… Captain America.”

“I beg your pardon?”

 

A voice like Agent Carter’s sang out, proving that there was more than just the 107 th in the pens.

 

“Is there anybody else? I’m looking for a Sergeant Sentinel James Barnes.” 

 

The distinguished English voice answered him.

 

“There’s an isolation ward in the factory but no one’s ever come back from it.” 

“All right. The tree line is northwest, 80 yards past the gate. Get out fast and give ‘em hell. I’ll meet you guys in the clearing with anybody else I find.”

“Wait! You know what you’re doin’?”

“Yeah. I’ve knocked out Adolf Hitler over two hundred times.”

 

Steve was aware he was leaving confusion behind him but all he could think of was Bucky. He knew he was alive, knew it in a way he could never describe. Deep within him resonated a bond that had been denied but was palpably there… he knew he was alive and he knew that he was getting closer.

 

Running through the tunnels that had been dug under the base he could feel the pull towards his Sentinel growing stronger and stronger. There was a little man with a bag of blueprints making an escape but he ignored him, too close now to allow himself to be distracted.

 

“Sergeant. 3..2..5..5..7…”

 

He knew that voice, it resonated within him and pulled him into the dark dank laboratory and towards a medical table.

 

“Bucky? Oh, my God.”

 

The first touch of skin to skin woke Bucky from his half-zone and he stared up with unfocused eyes.

 

“Is that…” 

“It’s me. It’s Steve.” 

“Steve? Steve's not here”

“Come on.” 

“Steve.... Steve” 

 

He hauled his Sentinel up, a dead weight until he got his feet under him, then wrapped him in a hug.

 

“I thought you were dead.”

“I thought you were smaller.”

 

There was a crackle of electricity and their attention was taken, adrenaline beginning to dump into both their systems.

 

“Come on.” 

“What happened to you?” 

“I joined the Army.”

“Did it hurt?”

“A little.” 

“Is it permanent?” 

“So far.”

 

 

@-;---

 

 

The men that Steve had released had done an amazing job on the base before the self destruct had been triggered. When he found them they had liberated three trucks and a tank as well as almost all of them being armed with either conventional or Hydra weapons. Meeting the Red Skull on the way out had frightened them both, the fire and the fear of losing his Guide had sent Bucky into a near feral state, something he did not have the reserves for.

 

The huge fire they had left behind them blazed into the sky as they joined the others, Bucky's survival leading to hugs from the few survivors of the 107 th . 

 

“Here Sarge.”

 

He was handed a Hydra weapon and straightened up as he cocked it instinctively, ready to defend this rescued tribe against all comers.

 

“Where are we headed then?”

 

The unusual Sergeant had an impressive moustache and a hat that was decidedly non-regulation.

 

“Colonel Phillips is about 60 miles away, we'll head there.”

“Great. Got a map?”

“Memorised one.”

“Suuure you did.”

 

Bucky stepped in front of him, pushed his Guide behind him a little and squared up to the other NCO.

 

“My Guide...”

“Your… shit man….”

“Guide… What he says goes…”

“OK.... He got us out... he'll get us home.”

 

One of the remnants of the 107 stepped forward and saluted briefly.

 

“We’ve followed you this far Sergeant Sentinel Barnes, don’t seem to make sense to stop now.”

“Good.”

 

He nodded decisively then turned to his Guide.

 

“Stevie… that is Captain?”

“Um… sure…. First things first, wounded into the trucks and lets put some distance between us and the bonfire before anyone comes looking.”

“You heard the Captain boys…. Let’s roll.”

 

The little convoy made its way around five miles from the site, heading deeper into the woods and the cover they provided. When they reached a clearing automatic training took over with some men forming a wood team and some others digging a latrine amongst the trees. There were no tents or blankets to set out billets but a few small fires made warm spots for them to bunk down. Those in better health quickly found each other and set out guards, agreeing to switch off at two hour intervals to keep them sharp whilst the two medics that had survived the prison looked over the wounded with sighs and no equipment.

 

Steve was trying to steer Bucky over to the medics but he resisted fiercely.

 

“I’m fine Steve.”

“You were strapped to a laboratory table. You have bruises on your bruises.”

“They’ll heal though.”

“Not quickly looking at the state of you.”

“Quicker than you might think.”

 

Steve’s mouth made an O of understanding and he stepped back, surprised when Bucky stepped forward to stay close against him.

 

“You’re strong now…. Really strong….”

“Seem to be….”

“So they can’t stop us from bonding.”

“No, they can’t….. not here though.”

 

Now he stepped back and snorted in half laughter, shaking his head.

 

“Really? I thought we’d do it right here under the noses of the Nazi war machine and dare them to find us…”

 

The familiar sarcasm was reassuring to the Guide’s heart, a sign that his Sentinel was there inside the battered, bruised and broken man he had dragged though the flames. He was naked beneath the ragged sweater that he wore, only his tags resting beneath. Even his trousers were torn and worn, blood trails over the fabric showing where he had fought the straps that had held him supine.

 

“Fine… you’ll see a medic when we get back to camp though… yeah?”

“I’ll need to prove I’m fit to bond so… yeah.”

 

Steve nodded again, realised he’d been bobbing his head like one of the marionettes at Coney Island and stopped.

 

“C’mon, lets bunk down. We need to sleep.”

“Haven’t slept in days.”

“So, you really need to sleep.”

 

He started to drag Bucky over to where the first group of prisoners he had released were sitting; the English one had taken one of the first watches but the others were shooting the breeze as though they were camping rather than running from German maniacs behind enemy lines. However, he resisted, making his way to the outside of the encampment and taking a watchful stance.

 

“You need rest Buck.”

“Tribe is at risk… I’ll stand guard.”

“It’s going to take days to get back to our lines, you must rest.”

“Sorry Steve, I can’t…. you should, need to keep you safe.”

 

Knowing that he would never change his mind Steve headed for the fire, if Bucky had reached a state where he was a combination of blessed protector and tribal guardian then there would be no arguing with him. The Sergeant in the hat looked up as he approached.

 

“He not sleepin’?”

“He says he can’t while we’re out here.”

“Well y’know… Sentinels work a bit different to the rest of us…”

“I know.”

“Course you do, you’re his?”

“I will be.”

“Huh?

“Wasn’t able to before, but I can now.”

“You weren’t able to bond?”

 

Steve blushed as they looked him up and down, pulling himself up to his full new height of 6’2” and squaring up a little before shrugging.

 

“I didn’t look like this then…. This was an experiment…”

“Experiment?”

“I volunteered….”

“Don’t want to do that son… you end up in the oddest places!”

“I ended up more than twice the weight and 10 inches taller.”

“Hell… I ended up here!”

 

The little Frenchman they had rescued spoke to the African-American next to him and he grinned.

 

“Dernier thinks we are being terribly rude by not introducing ourselves.”

“Steve Rogers… um, Captain America!”

“Yeah, Sergeant Dum Dum Dugan.”

“Dum Dum?”

“Gonna make something of it?”

“No.”

“Good call Captain.”

“So, leaving that Gabe Jones… Private in this mans army.”

“Excellent, I’m Jim Morita.”

“Jacques Dernier.”

“Anyone else?”

“Yeah, Lieutenant James Montgomery Falsworth is out there on guard duty.”

“Gotcha… you were all together?”

“Most of us, Morita here is just a great shot.”

 

He threw off a mock salute before lying down, prompting the rest to join him. Steve looked out towards his still Sentinel and whispered.

 

“If you need me come over, I don’t sleep much anymore.”

 

A nod in the distance and he let himself drift off.

 

 

@-;---

 

 

It was a long three days of marching and camping where they could before the tired, wounded and starving men reached the safety of the base. They were greeted by a confused and angry Colonel Phillips and a pleased and excited Agent Carter.

 

“I’d like to surrender myself for disciplinary action.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

 

He turned to leave and turned back.

 

“Your Sentinel?”

 

A ragged man separated off and came over to him, saluting as he did so.

 

“Sergeant Sentinel James Barnes, Colonel.”

“Glad you're alive Sergeant....”

“Thanks to him.”

“Yeah.... guess I need to unwrite some letters.”

 

He did leave now, walking back to the command tent as medics and support staff converged on the arrivals, carrying some into the hospital and lining up the rest for a checkup. Agent Carter came over and eyed Steve up and down before looking at Bucky.

 

“You’re late.”

 

He pulled a broken piece of technology out of his ripped and tattered leather jacket and showed it to her sheepishly.

 

“Couldn’t call my ride.”

 

Bucky was smiling at his chagrined look and realised that he had to remind everyone one last time that it was his Guide that had performed the impossible.

 

“Hey! Let’s hear it for Captain America!”

 

Cheering and applause broke out all through the rescuers and rescued, Steve and Bucky at the centre. As Steve was congratulated again and again Bucky stepped back quietly, making his way through the throng to try and find a moment of peace. He was frantic that he keep quiet about what had happened to him, worried that it would show up in a medical exam and fearful that this time it would be him that stopped the bonding he so desperately desired. He had just found a quiet spot, resting down on his heels and closing his eyes when a voice was raised over his head.

 

“Il est ici.”

“Dernier.... un moment s'il vous plait.”

“Mon Capitaine....”

 

Steve's shadow appeared and he nodded to the Frenchman who disappeared off to the rest of the group, a small group of watchers and guards as Sentinel and Guide settled next to each other in silence.

 

“You disappeared.”

“I needed a moment Steve...”

“You've had three days... medics.”

“Please....”

“If I'm your Guide then this is a part of it.... you've been Sentinel and Guide since we came online, it's my turn to take the load.”

“You've been my Guide, don't say that.”

“OK.... then listen to the Guide. Sentinels need us because sometimes you can't listen to yourselves.”

“I'm fine.”

 

Steve signed and wrapped an arm over his Sentinel's shoulders, pulling him in so he could smell his new scent and listen more closely.

 

“You haven't slept since I pulled you out of that laboratory... you've been in blessed protector of Guide and tribe mode since then and you need to see a Doctor...”

“What if...”

“Unless they know what I was I read as a healthy man, you will too.”

“Sure?”

“No, but what can they do... they end up with two enhanced soldiers who are bonded and can use their skills together rather than one showgirl.”

 

Logic won him over and he offered his Guide a hand, allowing him to pull him to suddenly tired feet. Bucky stumbled slightly and Steve wrapped a meaty arm around his waist.

 

“Medic... medic please.”

 

Two arrived, followed by Agent Carter, and took Bucky from his Guide.

 

“Report?”

“Sentinel who has been on protective detail since we left the Hydra base three days ago and I'm not sure how many days it has been since he slept.”

“Sergeant?”

“No sense of day and night in there, not allowed to rest and then came here.”

“Right then soldier, you've earned a night on a nice comfortable bunk before we look you over... I assume your Guide is coming too.”

“Of course he is.”

 

Agent Carter's imperious tones were those of a woman used to being obeyed and the medics simply nodded before helping Bucky into the tent but Steve stayed behind a moment.

 

“Thank you.”

“You rescued them Steven, 400 odd men and your Sentinel.”

“Knew he wasn't dead, even if we aren't official yet.”

 

He put out a hand at his waist and two hounds materialised, one on either side. A much stronger Lorcán and a slightly bedraggled Cezar, the wolf licking at his hand to emphasize his owner's worry over being separated so soon.

 

“Let's get you both bedded down.”

“It's still day.”

“Have you slept?”

“A little.”

 

At the thought though he yawned widely and his eyes fluttered a little.

 

“Come on then soldier... Bucky and bunk await.”

 

 

@-;---

 

 

“The fifth one was here in Poland, right near the Baltic... And the sixth one was… about here, 30, 40 miles west of the Maginot Line.... I just got a quick look....These are the weapon factories we know about. Sergeant Sentinel Barnes said that Hydra shipped all the parts to another facility that isn’t on this map.”

“Agent Carter, coordinate with MI6. I want every Allied eyeball looking for that main Hydra base.”

“What about us?”

“We are gonna set a fire under Johann Schmidt’s ass. What do you say, Rogers? It’s your map, you think you can wipe Hydra off of it?”

“I'll need a team.”

“We’re already putting together the best men.”

“With all due respect, sir. So am I.”

 

It had been a frantic two weeks since they had returned from Italy to London. After Bucky had been given a clean bill of health and all the prisoners had slept for as long as they needed a new plan had been announced. Some of the prisoners were sent home immediately, others sent back to their regiments but the remnants of the 107 th along with Steve, Bucky and the SSR headed to Britain. Steve and Bucky had been med at the airport by the Prime Pair for the UK and rushed away to the Sentinel/Guide centre. They realised quickly that Colonel Phillips had telegraphed ahead to tell them that he was bringing in a newly ready to bond pair and both their attitudes towards him softened, for a military hardass he had a sentimental side – although gaining a bonded set of Sentinel and Guide was a goal for all commanders. 

 

The London Sentinel/Guide centre was a refreshing oasis for the duo, a reminder of New York except for the cut glass accents and different uniforms. The British Prime pair had contacted their home centre, so the strapping twosome that stepped into their foyer came as something of a surprise.

 

“Guide Rogers?”

“Yes ma'am.”

“You do resemble your file photograph.... somewhat.”

“Oh, yes ma'am.”

“So you must be Sentinel Barnes.”

“Yes ma'am.”

“Please stop ma'aming me gentlemen, I keep looking for my mother.”

“Of course ma'a... that is Miss.... um....”

“Try Emma.”

“Steve...”

“James.”

 

The young woman looked at her files then closed them decisively.

 

“Well, you're here and there can't be much doubt about your fitness to bond... so, once the medics have seen you we'll let you clean up and sort you both to a suite.”

“Thank you.”

“You are most welcome Sentinel.”

 

The medical exam had been brief, mostly ensuring that they were in a fit enough state for the energy that the bonding would take from them. Then they were separated briefly and allowed to bathe, each spending as long as they could bear to be apart in warm water with Sentinel safe soap. They were given fresh, pure cotton trousers and tops then shown to a restful suite and left alone, finally.

 

When they emerged as a fully bonded pair they found that the SSR could apparently work miracles. Steve’s rank was now real, although he was reminded often that good officers listen to their Sergeants before making any decisions, and they had new uniforms tailored to their measurements so they could report in as soon as possible. Steve’s remarkable memory now came into its own, along with what Bucky had heard at the factory and when separated off. Zola had talked to him as he experimented, sure either that he was unconscious or that it did not matter because who would he ever tell about the plans and schemes he was listening to.

 

With a map of Hydra emplacements and factories now in his hands Colonel Phillips made his plans and finally agreed to let Steve and Bucky choose their team, knowing that a Sentinel and Guide pair would pick the best for them. He had been wrong about picking Rogers, he was trying hard not to be wrong again. He just had to check on one thing.

 

“Sergeant Barnes.”

“Colonel.”

“You have the right to return home and sit out the rest of the war having been a POW. I need to ask formally if you wish to exercise that right or if you plan to stay here.”

“I’ll stay.”

“You sure son?”

 

Bucky gestured over his shoulder with a thumb, pointing at Steve who was desperately trying to look as though he weren’t listening in.

 

“That one needs a Sergeant…. and a keeper.”

“That is definitely true. Well, you’ve earned the rank promotion of Staff Sergeant to be his NCO, congratulations Staff.”

“Thank you sir.”

“Dismissed.”

 

He got while the going was good and made his way over to Steve.

 

“I am not calling you Sir.”

“Would never expect it.”

“Got that right.”

 

Agent Carter was just about able to maintain her professional mien with the two of them and took the opportunity to go and clarify some information when it came, leaving the pair ready to go and recruit their men.

 

 

@-;---

 

 

Since all it took to recruit the men that would become the Howling Commandoes was a bar tab it was easier than he had anticipated. All of them had been offered the same chance that Bucky had to leave and not a one had even contemplated taking it.

 

“See? I told you. They’re all idiots.”

“How about you then? You ready to follow Captain America into the jaws of death?” 

Hell, no. That little guy from Brooklyn who was too dumb not to run away from a fight. I’m keeping an eye on him. But you’re keeping the outfit, right?”

“You know what? It’s kind of growing on me.”

 

Bucky leaned forward and rested his forehead against Steve’s, their breaths falling into sync as they simply existed for a few moments. Then the music in the bar stopped and they both looked up. Agent Carter was wearing a beautiful deep red dress and her appearance was apparently enough to stop all the men dead, slowly though the part picked back up.

 

“Captain, Staff Sergeant.”

“Ma’am.”

“Howard has some equipment for you to try. Tomorrow morning?” 

“Sounds good.” 

“I see your top squad is prepping for duty.” 

 

Bucky could not resist the opportunity to twit the English girl he knew had a crush on his Guide.

 

“You don’t like music?” 

“I do, actually. I might even, when this is all over, go dancing.” 

“Then what are we waiting for?”

“The right partner... 0800, Captain.”

“Yes, ma’am. We’ll be there.”

 

Bucky mimed being shot in the heart as she turned away then smiled at Steve.

 

“She likes you.”

“I’m your Guide.”

“You weren’t before… and that’s not how the heart works.”

“Oh.”

“And she is beautiful.”

“Yes.”

 

Steve blushed, then leaned in and kissed his Sentinel, tasting the whisky he had been nursing all night. The troop behind whooped and saluted with beer, pleased to have a bonded duo at their head. Dum Dum was also pleased that there was a Sergeant above him in the pecking order, he had no desire to try and rein in a man who had taken a factory single-handed. Bucky gave them all a single finger in salute and pulled back.

 

“C’mon. We still need to sleep sometimes.”

 

 

@-;---

 

 

The next morning Steve arrived at the SSR headquarters ahead of his Sentinel who had gone to make peace with the English Agent. He stopped at a receptionist in uniform and decided to ask.

 

“Excuse me. I’m looking for Mr. Stark.”

“He’s in with Colonel Phillips. Of course you’re welcome to wait…I read about what you did.”

 

She showed him a paper with his face on the front, ‘Captain America saves the day’ emblazoned across as a banner headline. It was more like a prop from one of the movies than a real thing.

 

“Oh! The…yeah! Well, that’s you know? Just doin’ what needed to be done.” 

“Sounded like more than that. You saved nearly four hundred men.” 

“Really, it’s not a big deal… and” 

“Tell that to their wives.”

 

Steve put his hands up in protest as she got ever nearer to him.

 

“Uh…I don’t think they were all married…. and”

“You’re a hero.”

“Well, that…you know? That…that depends on the definition of it really.”

 

She grabbed at his tie and pulled him in until they were almost nose to nose. Steve had no idea what to do.

 

“The women of America, they owe you their thanks. And uh…seeing as they’re not here.”

 

She landed one on him then and he waved his hands, wondering how to get her off without using his strength in a dangerous way.

 

“Let him go, now.”

 

He had not been so glad to hear Bucky’s voice since the prison camp, it was more like hearing it coming down an alley when he was being turned into paste.

 

“Who’re you to tell me what to do?”

“Staff Sergeant Sentinel Barnes, let go of my Guide.”

 

She backed off then, releasing Steve’s tie and letting him scoot over behind his furious Sentinel.

 

“I…”

“It’s alright Captain. Staff Sergeant Barnes and I understand exactly what happened here.”

 

Agent Carter’s voice could have frozen water and the Private did not like it.

 

“Fine.”

 

She was a saucy thing and Peggy’s raised eyebrow promised some retribution in the near future. Perhaps some time in the basement vaults would cool her unwanted ardour.

 

“If you’d like to go ahead Captain, Staff Sergeant. I believe I need to have a conversation with this soldier.”

 

They got while the going was good.

 

Inside Starks laboratory it seemed more like Aladdin’s cave of wonders than an engineering base of operations. The inventor was covered in soot and grease stains, running hither and thither between ideas and partially built projects. Once he realised the pair were there he came over, smiling broadly and clasping each of their hands in turn.

 

“Glad to see you both… you especially Captain considering the last time I saw you was when you jumped out the plane!”

“We’ve spoken about that.”

“I’m sure you have Staff Sergeant Barnes.”

“Jumping out of a perfectly good airplane without any training….”

 

Bucky reached out and grabbed Steve’s shoulder just thinking about it.

 

“This is why officers have Sergeants… to keep them from being totally bone headed.”

“So you’ve said…. Repeatedly.”

 

Steve decided to take the opportunity to ask a question that had been on his mind.

 

“What is fondue?”

“Fondue is just cheese and bread, my friend.”

“Oh…. Anyway….”

“Yeah, , I concentrate on work. Which at the moment is about making sure you and your men do not get killed.”

 

He gestured to some fabric that was lying out on a bench.

 

“Carbon polymer… Should withstand your average German bayonet. Although Hydra’s not going to attack you with a pocket knife.”

 

Then he gestured to the bent and battered remnants of Steve’s shield.

 

“ I hear you’re uh… kinda attached?”

“It’s handier than you might think.”

“I took the liberty of coming up with some options… have a look… also…. Staff Sergeant…”

“Call me James.”

“Howard… I hear you’re quite the sniper, even for a Sentinel…”

“I do alright.”

 

He pulled at Bucky’s arm and dragged him over to another bench.

 

“New sights…. Didn’t play with the rifle much as I know you snipers are loyal as hell so I thought one of these might help.”

 

He left Bucky looking through them and headed back to the Guide.

 

“What about this one?”

“No! No! That’s just a prototype.”

“What’s it made of?”

“Vibranium. Stronger than steel and about a third of the weight. It’s completely vibration absorbent.”

“How come it’s not standard issue?”

“That’s the rarest metal on earth. What you’re holding there? That’s all we’ve got.”

“Amazing... Agent Carter what do you think?”

 

She picked up a small revolver and shot at him, watching coolly as the shield deflected the bullets away from the slightly panicked Guide.

 

“Yes. I think it works.”

 

She put the weapon back and calmly headed over to Bucky, clearly more upset about Steve's apparent cheating than his partner was.

 

“I had some ideas about the uniform.”

“Whatever you want pal.”

 

Peggy reached Bucky and stood next to him, looking over the sights with a professional eye.

 

“Glad that shield worked.”

“Never in question.... I trust Howard to do several things... hit on me at least twice a week, hit on every other woman in his vicinity at a much higher rate, drink too much scotch and build things that work.”

“His flying car in New York was a bit of a miss.”

“I heard about that... it did fly though.”

“For a few seconds.”

“Still.... he's a lot better with weaponry.”

 

Bucky gestured over the sights and sighed.

 

“Any one of these is vastly better than the ones I've used so far. Two are even set for Sentinel sight.”

“Sentinel Sight?”

“We can see further and with more detail but it can become blurred after a certain distance or if you don't have your Guide with you. Also, if you are piggybacking your senses you often aren't as precise as you otherwise might be.”

“Piggybacking?”

“If you concentrate you can send a sense along another one, for example, send your hearing along with your sight to extend your range or listen in to whispered and hidden conversations.”

“Did you do that with Zola?”

“Didn't need to, he treated me like a part of his laboratory furniture and he has a habit of talking to himself. Did extend a bit to try and see past the door but...”

“You were in pain, no-one could expect you to do more than the amazing amount you managed.”

“An Alpha would have been able to... but they killed the one Alpha they took before they used me.”

“I'm sorry.”

“He was a good man... even if I didn't know his name I'll remember him for the rest of my life.”

 

She smiled sadly and folded her arms. It was easy to touch Steve, to offer him physical comfort in a way his Sentinel seemed to reject without words being spoken. She would have wondered at the difference but she had been taught that it was common with Sentinels and Guides, one having an aura that invited you in whilst the other pushed you away. Only Guides were welcomed freely into a Sentinel’s orbit, they could decide they wanted you close but it was a privilege and not a right.

 

“He really likes you.”

“You’re his Sentinel!”

“I’m also not blind Agent Carter.”

“I told you to call me Peggy.”

“Then you should be calling me James… and him punk.”

 

 

@-;----

 

 

The Commando group was successful from their first mission. Lorcán and Cezar developed a habit of singing the song of their people when they defeated a Hydra cell and the group was named the Howling Commandoes as a result. They used different techniques depending on the specific target of the day. Dernier was a wizard with an explosive, a magician with dynamite and had balls big enough to roll under moving vehicles to attach his creations to their chassis. Bucky’s mastery with a rifle saw him take out guards before they knew that anyone was near, silent entry and loud in the middle became one of their signature moves. Sometimes Sentinel and Guide fought back to back, side by side, other times they were split by design but always they were a team. When Steve learned to ride a motorcycle, and Howard had armoured one for him, he tended to ride it straight at Hydra troops, scattering them for the rest of the unit to pick off one by one. The Spirit Guides sometimes became real enough to join the fights, when Sentinel and Guide were in full flow they could tear out a man's throat or trip him as though they were real. The Kapitän Amerika and his Weißer Wolf became folk tales amongst the Hydra and Nazi units they fought. Tales of Das Hunt und Der Wolf and the way they tore through men and vanished made them legends, ghost stories for campfires and scaring new recruits.

 

Sometimes Peggy joined them on their missions, shooting and fighting with a prowess that let her blend into the unit without question. They were already the only desegregated group in the American Army, adding a woman to the mix seemed like nothing at all. Colonel Phillips was delighted with them as they proceeded to wipe Hydra bases and installations off the map, adding ones they found through paperwork in the places they captured then removing them just as quickly. Whenever they found themselves back in London the pair would go to the Centre and rebond, taking the time to make sure their relationship would outlast the war they were fighting. Sometimes they talked about Peggy, Bucky gently twitting Steve about his crush on the woman – although he admitted that she was a lady he could fall for himself, if he hadn't been so wrapped up in his Guide.

 

Occassionally the Commandoes were called upon to lead larger groups into combat, leading and teaching their guerilla tactics as the Army spread across Europe and towards victory. As the winter of 1944/45 progressed they did so more and more, Steve taking snipers down with his shield as effectively as Bucky did with his rifle. Gabe Jones was a stronger man than he appeared, slinging a machine gun from an emplacement over his shoulder and firing it at a run whilst Dum Dum Dugan used a shotgun with devastating accuracy.

 

The news crews came out to see what they were doing and film was shot of them, focused on Captain America and his Sentinel but capturing the mixed unit and showing the country back home just what could be accomplished. One crew caught them planning a raid on the hood of a jeep, catching the photograph of Peggy that Bucky had glued into Steve's compass as a prank, leaving them both red faced and chasing him around the SSR headquarters in mock anger.

 

Finally they had the news they had been waiting for, information on the location of Dr Armin Zola, Schmidt's right hand scientist and Bucky's torturer. He was on a train heading throught the mountains and there was only one way to get him.

 

Monty Falsworth was a red beret, highly trained, highly experienced and highly dubious about the whole idea.

 

“Remember when I made you ride the Cyclone at Coney Island?” 

“Yeah, I and I threw up?”

“This isn’t payback, is it?” 

“Now why would I do that?”

 

Gabe had been listening on a stolen Hydra communications array and looked up.

 

“We were right. Dr. Zola’s on the train. Hydra dispatcher gave him permission to open up the throttle. Wherever he’s going, they must need him bad.”

 

Monty put down his field glasses and packed them away.

 

“Let’s get going, because they’re moving like the devil.” 

“We only got about a 10-second window. You miss that window, we’re bugs on a windshield.” 

“Mind the gap.”

 

Then it was Steve, Bucky and Gabe on the zipline from hell, over a valley and crevasse that stretched out fatally beneath them. All three landed safely, making their way along the roof until they found a convenient point of entry. Steve climbed down the side of the train and opened the sliding door, followed by Bucky leaving Gabe as look out and point man for their return. The train car was full of Hydra's strange ammunition as well as more conventional weapons and Bucky had to let Steve take point as the scent overpowered him as it so often did. Suddenly doors slid shut, separating them from each other as some of the most heavily armed Hydra personnel they had ever seen came to take them out. Steve could hear Bucky firing in his compartment as he faced his opponent, his weaponry powering up with the heavy whine that hurt Bucky's ears so much. He took him out quickly, using the cannon like gun to blast open his side of the doors that kept them apart. Through the window he could see that Bucky was running low on ammunition, resorting to his sidearm to fight off the troopers that were trying to take him down. Steve opened the door and threw him his own gun, sliding a huge packing crate towards the soldier and making him move into position for Bucky to take the shot.

 

“I had him on the ropes.”

“I know you did.... get down.”

 

Another of the cannon carriers appeared and Steve deflected his shot with the shield, blasting a hole in the side of the car. Cold air rushed in and both men threw a quick thought for Gabe before focussing again on the challenge in front of them. Steve had been thrown to the far side of the car and Bucky picked up the shield, not for the first time, to defend and protect them, adrenaline rising as a feral state approached. Another cannon blast hit him however and he was thrown out of the hole, grasping onto the wreckage of the car and holding on for dear life. Steve threw the shield then raced to his Sentinel.

 

“Bucky! Hang On!”

 

He began to edge his way out to his Sentinel, using every fibre of his new strength to hold onto the wreckage and reach for him. The piece of twisted steel that Bucky had been able to grab began to give way and rattle threateningly.

 

“Grab my hand!”

 

It broke. Screaming Bucky fell. For a few moments Steve simply stayed motionless, persuading himself that letting himself fall after him was not a good idea, was not what Bucky would have wanted. Lorcan appearing in the doorway whining and crying made him move, he would finish the mission. Finish the war and let himself go. He would find a way to be with Bucky again, there was no question. They had waited too long, they would spend eternity together.

 


End file.
